Cracks in the Mirror
by xinde
Summary: My very own Death Note collection of humorous fics! Latest chapter: Matt and Mello discuss the chemical implications of Wammy's House monikers. I do hope this idea hasn't been done before.
1. Save the Shinigami Trees

Characters: Light, Misa

Rating: K+

A/N: I noticed a lot of authors have multi-chapter fics where they just post random cracks. So here is my very own _Cracks in the Mirror. _Look inside, and you shall see the twisted rendition of your own visage, muahahahha… eh. Ok, please don't be scared. As I have mentioned, this is entirely crack, humor, no seriousness, please do not judge the quality of my writing by these ficlets, oh and they will probably be of varying characters, pairings, and ratings.

And for this particular installment: I don't have anything against environmentalists; I just don't like it when they try to be all self-righteous if their logic is flawed.

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.

Save the Shinigami Trees!

"Light…"

Over six years, Light had significantly exercised his selective hearing. It follows that he had trained his ears to exclude any sound waves of Misa's frequency.

"Lighttttt," Misa whined with more urgency.

"What?" he finally snapped, not tearing his eyes away from the TV where Kira's Kingdom was playing.

"I think we should get a Death Notebook."

"We already have two."

"No," Misa persisted. "I mean a notebook, like a laptop. Then we could type up the names in a Word document instead of writing them on paper."

Light sighed internally and directed his attention to his laptop, where he commenced typing notes on how he would like to have Demegawa die for his insufferable antics. He might just include Misa while he was at it, although honestly, suggestions like this were nothing new to him. Just last month she'd wanted to decorate the cover and pages of the notebook with stickers and illustrations to somehow mask its purpose.

"Misa, you're missing a crucial point here: a laptop cannot kill." _Although admittedly, it would be convenient for planning Demegawa's very detailed death._

"But Light, you're so smart, I'm sure you could figure out a way to program the laptop to kill. Maybe Ryuk could help you. And it would be safer, because you could password protect the files. And most of all, you could save the environment!"

_Well, _that's _new. _Light actually swiveled around on his chair to stare at Misa, sprawled on the couch. "What in the world are you talking about?"

"Light, writing in the note uses so much paper! I bet you've killed as many trees as you have criminals!"

"Misa, the note isn't made from trees. It's from the Shinigami realm."

"How do you know they don't have trees in the Shinigami realm? If you kill those trees too, there won't be enough to do photosynthesis, and then global warming will be exacerbated and the polar bears will all drown!" Misa wailed.

Light shook his head, turning back to his work. "You need to stop smoking Shinigami weed," he muttered inaudibly. _Although it seems to have magically given you the brainpower to pronounce five-syllable words—in English._

He really needed a new, smarter tool, preferably not another environmentalist junkie… that Mikami guy didn't look like a tree-hugger. Maybe he would do.


	2. Sportsmanship

**Sportsmanship**

A/N: The whole color thing with Matt, Mello, and Near is kind of old. But for the sake of humor, I have used it again. Do forgive me. And please do forgive me as well if you supported Netherlands in the World Cup last year (do FFN people follow sports much? I don't; the two worlds seem slightly incongruous).

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

Characters: Mello, Rod

Rating: K+

It was a slow day at the Mafia base. Most of the men lounged about cleaning their guns, smoothing out the creases in their pants, or otherwise looking ceremonial. The heavy air hung in the room, eventually causing everyone to succumb to heat-induced somnolence. Everyone except a certain chocolate-wielding Mello, whose gaze was avidly fixed on the TV screen.

The final game of the World Cup was airing, and Mello snapped off a corner of chocolate in synch with Germany scoring a goal against the Netherlands. The crowd erupted in cheers, and Mello was about to join them until the door behind him screeched open to admit Rod Ross.

The mountainous man moved to stand behind the couch and squinted at the TV. How he could see anything on the screen was a wonder, with his piggish eyes so narrowed. Mello dearly hoped his boss wasn't a fan of those piddling Dutchmen.

Just then, Rod spoke. "You should know, Mello…" he rumbled.

"…that Germany will win by a landslide?" Mello said. "I know, Rod, I know. What's more, if I'd gone professional, they could've stopped that Dutch swine from scoring a single goal."

"…actually, Mello, I hate soccer."

A chocolate bar hit the floor. Mello tilted his head backwards for a better view of the Mafia boss's unflatteringly flared nostrils.

"You…"

"Yes, Mello, I hate soccer. You would too if you'd gotten a concussion, a broken jaw, and two sprained ankles in one week thanks to that damned sport."

Childhood trauma, whaddaya expect? Mello snorted, mentally rolling his eyes. Aloud, he hoisted the most falsely sympathetic quaver he could manage into his voice. "You must have been playing with a rough crowd. I never got injured when I was young."

"Well, more power to you," Rod growled sourly. "I'll never understand what fun you can derive from a game with a black-and-white checkered ball. Are they trying to win the Tackiest Outfit award?"

Germany scored again, and Mello smiled fondly. "I like the color scheme. Reminds me of a friend. He always wore black and white stripes." Mello wasn't thinking quite clearly.

"You realize they're kicking that ball around?" Rod nodded at the German offense. "I knew you had a violent streak, Mello, but what kind of a friend are you talking about? Sounds more like a punching bag."

Another chocolate bar joined its companion on the floor. Mello stared slack-jawed at the TV as his mind supplied him with horrific images of the German players kicking the ball around, no, not a ball, a curled up black-and-white stripes figure, huddled into a quivering ball.

The channel changed. Mello looked up to see the remote in Rod's beefy hands.

"Figured you might not want to watch anymore."

Mello snatched the remote and started flicking through channels. When did volleyball season start?

A/N: Yep. Well, if you haven't read How to Read: 13, you wouldn't know that Rod dislikes soccer (so random), and then Mello was playing soccer in volume 7, so I thought it would be funny if their interests were to ever clash. And the part at the end… well, think: what, besides a volleyball, is white, spherical, and something that Mello would like to strike?


	3. Misa's Spelling Lessons

**Misa's Spelling Lessons**

Characters/Pairing: Misa, Mello/Matt

Rating: T for not-explicit sex and language

A/N: So… more Misa shenanigans and now some MelloxMatt action! Well, not really; it's just for comedic effect. Umm… I'm not very good at writing sex talk; just substitute better sex convos that you've read if you need to. Otherwise, enjoy, hehe… oh yes, and THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed/favorited/alerted _Cracks in the Mirror. _It maketh me very happy; PLEASE continue to do so to ensure that Misa keeps doing stand-up comedy and giving me topics to write about!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. Can we get to the story _please?_

XXX

Misa was drunk.

Nothing good could come of that.

(Spoken too soon. Wait and see, please.)

The evening of the 25th of November, 2009, descended in fiery streaks across the western horizon. The watercolor reminded Misa of Light's hair, of orange crème pie, of toasty chestnut-ridden fires.

Wait.

Misa looked, not a moment too soon, as blue eyes shrouded in golden strands and black feathers glanced off her own eyes. It was him, all right; he'd acquired a scar and a zebra-striped affair clinging to his arm. Light certainly hadn't told her anything about that when he showed her the picture. But Misa was having trouble focusing on the letters above their heads; they kept swimming dizzily in midair thanks to the four and a half shots of vodka she'd had. Why couldn't Light have told her his real name?

_Mello _and his companion were walking out of the bar, and Misa's hopes for gaining Light's eternal love were going with them. There was no question as to what she had to do. As quickly as her drunken coordination would allow, she slipped down from the stool and followed them out, swaying as she stepped into the cold winter air. Fortunately they were only slightly less inebriated than she, and so she managed to stumble along after them all the way back to their apartment complex.

Misa became slightly befuddled by the revolving door, and passerby going in and out of the building took the side door, assuming she was a very expensive and lost prostitute. When she finally figured out which way was forward, her targets had disappeared.

The part of Misa's brain that was slightly less intoxicated than the rest reasoned that they probably would not be listed in the registrar under their right names or their aliases. Her only options were to commence an expedition throughout the building in the hopes of running into one of them, or to camp out in the lobby and wait for them to come down in the morning. With a deeply disgruntled sigh, Misa set off towards the stairs. Even if it was the death of her (and with that Mello looking as dangerous as he did, it could very well be), she would see this through to the end. For Light.

There didn't happen to be much of it in the hallways, and Misa stumbled around the first few floors until she heard a loud thump from the ceiling directly above her. It was followed by sounds of creaking and strained, low voices. And then a sudden cry: "God damn, Mello!"

Misa smiled. "Yes, darling, God _is _about to damn you," she crooned to the darkness as she blundered up the stairs.

Crouching outside number 527, from which more moans and sighs trickled steadily, Misa thought about the couple she had seen only briefly at the bar. Even from the quick glance at their faces, she could tell that their looks were to die for. She'd never been a yaoi fan, but Mello and his lover Matt, or so she gathered from the moans, made it seem, well, better than anything she got from Light, that is to say, nothing.

_Stop it, _she reprimanded herself. _Light is a thousand times more divine, _and _he loves me._

The moans accelerated; Misa wondered how often the neighbors got to enjoy this.

"Ooohhhhh, Melloooo please! Ahh… god, Mello, fuck meeeee, fucking Mihael Keehl, ohhhh-"

"-yeah, Matt, ohhh so good Mail fucking Jeevas ohhhh shit! Fuck, this is bad-"

"Ahhh, touch me Mello, I neeeed youuuu-"

"NOOO! Do you realize, we just said our REAL NAMES?"

"Ah, fuck, who cares, no one in this building is Kira, Mello."

"But-"

"Damn it, Mello, if you don't finish me, I'm going to die before Kira kills me!"

_Unlikely, _Misa thought smugly as she reached into her purse. The screams and groans resumed as she began to write.

MIHAIL KALE MILE JEEVES

MIHAIL KAIL MILE JIEVES

MIHAIL KAYL MILE GVAS

MIHAIL KHALE MILE JEVES

MIHAIL KAILE MILE JEEVAS

MIHAIL KAYLE MILES JEEVES

MIHAIL CAIL MILES GVAS

MIHAIL CALE MILES JEEVOSS

MIHAIL CAYLE MAIL JEVES

MIHAIL CAEL MAIL JIEVES

MIAHIL CAEIL MAIL JEIVAS

Etc., etc., etc.

Twelve minutes, two orgasms, and one sheet of paper later, Mello and Matt lay breathing heavily in bed together while Misa lurked outside their door and seethed at their continued existence.

XXX

Knock, knock.

"Who's that?" Mello mumbled sleepily.

"Probably number 523 after us again for noise pollution. I'll get rid of him," Matt sighed, hopping out of bed.

"Hello, can I help you?" he asked brightly of… well, he didn't know 523 kept such a pretty little blond thing. What a pedophile. Strangely, the tiny Mello look-alike looked straight at his head, not his naked lower body. Well, that was probably just his ego speaking.

"I just wanted your opinion on this survey," the girl slurred as she fumbled with a pen and paper.

_And he gives alcohol to minors. Well, look who's talking. Holy shit, WHAT is she writing?_

Matt snatched the paper away and slammed the door in the girl's face. Trembling, he returned to Mello's side.

"What was it?" Mello asked. Matt wordlessly handed him the paper. Mello scanned it a few times, then seized Matt and dragged him into a crushing kiss.

"Mello…?" Matt gasped when they broke apart.

"Matt, if this is actually from the Death Note, this is one of the best things that's ever happened to us."

"What, me dying?"

"Matt, it's been forty seconds."

"…"

"You're not going to die, and neither am I."

"I love you, Mello."

XXX

Misa stomped down the stairs, coming increasingly close to breaking her neck. That boy was so rude! Misa would definitely kill him when she got home.

As it was, she never did, because the next day, she sent a certain package to Japan and couldn't remember why she had followed a pair of hot bishies home the night before.

XXX

A/N: All right, if you're confused, that may be because you haven't read the rule in which if you accidentally misspell someone's name four times, they can no longer be killed by the Death Note. Cool, yes? Just think, if Light had misspelled Takuo Shibuimaru's name four times in the beginning, instead of getting it right the first time, then he might not have managed to kill the guy and passed the first death off as a coincident and then the whole series would never have happened! Ok, tangent over… then Misa loses her memories the very next day. Yay. So I hope you liked this part, but wait! There's a second part to "Misa's Spelling Lessons" coming up, perhaps you can guess why…


	4. Misa's Spelling Lessons part 2

**Misa's Spelling Lessons – Part 2**

**Alternate title: "Not you again!"**

Characters/Pairings: Matt/Mello, Takada, Sidoh

Rating: K+

A/N: So here's the lovely second part to Misa's Spelling Lessons! Makes more sense if you read the first part.

Disclaimer: Eh… well, the whole reason I'm writing this is because I don't own Death Note but wish that this could have been how it turned out…

XXX

Sidoh craned his neck through the portal. The hole was barely large enough to fit his head, and he had to extend his long arms holding his notebook through the hole in front of him so he could write while watching the humans. Being a Death God was such a pain. The other Shinigami wouldn't even lend him a pen to write names when he got his notebook back, so he'd wasted two months figuring out how to make one. Now his time was really running out, and he had to act quickly.

Some motion caught his eye, and he noticed a ring of black cars surrounding a red one. The people in the cars were all holding those metal killing devices, _guns, _Sidoh thought, which were so much more convenient than notes. Then Sidoh had an unusually inspired thought.

_The ones in the black cars look like they want to kill the one in the red car. So what if I killed them all at once, just to make the red one think he'll survive, but then I'll actually kill him? What fun…_

Sidoh began to write down the twenty-four names as fast as he could. The red one was saying something, probably begging for mercy, but even as he spoke, the ones around him slowly began to fall, struggling against their doom. Some even fired a few poorly aimed shots before they toppled, but their target easily dodged them.

As he looked around in amazement, Sidoh cackled and wrote his name down. _Forty seconds now…_

Forty seconds later, he was still standing. Sidoh was so shocked that as he leaned forward to get a better look at the still-living man, he dropped his notebook right through the hole and into the human world. _Again._

XXX

"Breaking news in the Takada kidnapping incident, listen up everyone! The kidnapper's accomplice has escaped from Miss Takada's bodyguards! What's more, all the bodyguards have been killed. Apparently they all just dropped dead at the scene before they managed to secure the criminal…"

Mello's eyes prickled suspiciously as he observed the mini TV screen in the truck. The twelve squad cars were huddled in a circle, with their late occupants toppled every which way beside them. Two cars had been knocked into each other, the only indicator of Matt's miraculous escape. To be honest, he hadn't been certain that Matt would survive, and he asked himself again, how could he have put Matt in such danger? If there hadn't been some god watching over him, God in heaven or god of death, who knew, his lover would have died… for nothing.

Mello shook his head and tried to blink away the tears. _Concentrate… Matt's alive and will hopefully stay that way; I've got to play my part. _Takada's shivering in the back was eating at his nerves, but he just had to keep driving and get it over with.

In the church, and Mello couldn't help but parse the symbolic meanings of the location as he waited for Takada to pull herself together and write his name. He dutifully counted forty seconds after she finished writing and prepared to steal the Best Actor award from that damned Light Yagami.

First came the initial jolt, a dramatic gasp, a sudden stiffening of all the muscles. And then, more wheezing and choking in an attempt to get oxygen from a heart wasn't supposed to be beating any longer. More tremors, more rattling last breaths, and… cut. From his slumped position over the steering wheel, rosary dangling forlornly, Mello thought he should at least win Best Picture for the movie of life. Or was it farce?

Takada sighed in relief, and though Mello's pose prevented him from seeing her in the mirror, he could faintly make out her ragged whispers as she called Light and told him of Mello's "death."

"Yes… I'm going to stay put and do as you told… please hurry, Light…" She ended the call and began another one, to Mikami, Mello supposed. "Send me as many names as you can of those who are to be brought to justice."

It was time for Mello to make his move. Soundlessly rising from his seat, he stormed into the back of the truck and smiled grimly in spite of Takada's screams.

"I'll have to confiscate these," he said, pulling the paper and cell phone from her limp grasp. "I'm not going to hurt you. I've already proven my capability by kidnapping you, defying death, and looking gorgeous even in that god-awful delivery boy uniform. If I wanted to hurt you, I could and I would have already."

"N-not you again… I saw you die!" Takada whimpered.

"Well… shall I say that the Death Note's encountering some technical difficulties when it comes to my name? It's not your fault. Just sit tight, and Matt will be here soon to pick us up." _I think._

Mello returned to the front to watch Takada. It was through the rearview mirror that he saw the change in her occur, just twenty minutes later. Her eyes suddenly went blank, all tension drained out of her body, and she stood, though she still kept the blanket wrapped around herself. She walked zombie-like towards the front of the vehicle, climbed over the barrier, and started to open the door opposite Mello.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" he demanded, but she ignored him. He leaned over and tried to pull her away from the door, but recoiled when she aimed an elbow jab at his face with more force than he thought the delicate woman possessed.

_She's being controlled by the Death Note, _Mello realized. _But what is she going to do?_

Takada dragged a jug of gasoline over to the truck; Mello, watching in horror, needed no further clues. He leapt out of the truck and started running.

XXX

Matt watched the figure in black stop short. "Glad to see me, phoenix?" he inquired.

"As glad as you are to see me, mockingbird," Mello retorted, getting in the passenger seat.

"What should I take that to mean?"

"To kill a mockingbird, the most innocent and kind-hearted of all birds, is an unforgivable sin," Mello said quietly, staring at the dashboard as Matt stepped on the gas again. "And I almost did."

"Cheer up, Mello." Matt reached over to cup Mello's chin in one hand (who needs two hands to drive, huh?) and turn his head to see his eyes (on second thought, who needs to see the road to drive?). "I'm alive, I'm most certainly not a mockingbird, and did we just leave Takada behind?"

"…yeah."

"Should've known. Every day is a day for surprises, right Mello?"

"Right. Care to explain how you survived?"

"Look in the glove compartment."

Mello looked and swore as he retrieved the thin black book that said DEATH NOTE. He glanced up just in time to see a black and white winged figure descend into the road directly in front of them. In perfect synchronization, they said, "Not you again!"

A/N: Yeah, I know. Funny… or not? Some serious moments, but the overall concept of Matt and Mello being saved completely by chance is just ironic. Anyways. Review please?


	5. Got Blood?

**Got Blood?**

Characters: Mello, Matt

Rating: K+

A/N: I donated blood last week, so that's where this little idea came from. I'm O positive like Matt! (well, who knows if he's positive or negative, but positive is more common). I was thinking of adding a little spiel about A and BB, but you know, puns only get so funny and then they're lame. Anyways. Oh yeah, thanks again to kumikoson4 and lolgreeness for your reviews. You make me happiiii :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, woot.

XXX

"God damn you, Near! I hate him!"

One did not simply hear Mello throwing tantrums about rankings in Wammy's House. One anticipated them days in advance and stocked up on earplugs and body armor. Matt knew to keep Mello's chocolate drawers extra well-stocked and to have duct tape or a strong shoulder ready depending on whether Mello was feeling destructive or weepy. Which is why Mello was surprised, upon entering their room, to find his friend not in position for repairing broken furniture or giving a free hug. Instead, he was sitting in bed, the covers drawn to his knees, looking rather peaky.

"You look about as pale as Near," Mello remarked.

Matt rolled his eyes. He knew that was Mello's way of saying, "You seem sick. Are you ok?"

"I just donated blood," he explained.

"Oh," Mello said.

"Yes, that's my blood type, O, which they need a lot of, because it's the universal donor. But I barely made the requirements: 155 cm and 50.7 kg when you have to be 153 cm and 50 kg to donate."

"And so that's why you're all pale and anemic-looking?" Mello frowned. "Also because you don't ever exercise, so your blood circulation and oxygen-carrying capacity are probably pitiful. Plus you only consume junk food and energy drinks which only dehydrate you and—"

"Yes Mello, the nurse already gave me that lecture," Matt sighed. "It's really cute when you worry about me, but I'll be fine. Spare your breath for some Near-bashing; we could always use more of that."

Mello missed the sarcasm and launched right back into his favorite topic.

"I studied so hard for that test!" he fumed. "Applications of moral philosophy in science, medicine, legal systems, and warfare. I've got this stuff down pat; who's to say Near knows ethics better than I do?"

Mello paused for breath and bounced onto the bed, making Matt's head spin. "Would you donate blood to me if I needed it?" he asked.

"Of course," came the immediate response. "I'd give you a kidney and a half if you asked nicely."

Mello ignored this massive generosity in favor of throwing a curve ball: "Would you give Near blood?"

Matt hesitated before replying. "Yes, I would." As Mello's gaze darkened, he hastened to add, "Mello, I know you hate him, but he's not a bad person. I may not like him all that much, but I wouldn't want him to die."

Mello exhaled deeply and leaned over to ruffle Matt's hair. "Fair enough, Mattie. You'd make a great doctor, what with that Hippocratic oath where you have to help whoever needs help."

"The Hippocratic oath is obsolete, Mels. Doctors legally have the right to refuse someone treatment. But I _would _make a good surgeon. Fine motor control skills, you know." Matt wiggled his fingers, for once devoid of a gaming device.

"Rubbish," Mello snorted.

"Tell you a secret, though," Matt said. "I hacked everyone's health records yesterday. You beat Near."

"What? Well of course I'm fitter than him; that's no surprise."

"No, Mello. You beat him. You're type A, and he's type B."

Mello considered Matt's revelation and whether this should count as a victory.

In the end, he decided it didn't matter as long as he had Matt to save him from bleeding to death.

A/N: Horrible ending, I know; it's hard to find a stopping point in these dialogue-heavy fics. Hehe. Anyways… review please? Even if it's just to tell me that it's impossible to donate half a kidney :)


	6. Tantrum

**Tantrum**

Character: Mello

Rating: K+

A/N: From chapter 67 and episode 30. Yes, I go through all the manga and anime just looking for finicky details to write fics about. Lol.

I do not own Death Note.

XXX

Mello here. I'd just like to address certain points regarding… people throwing things at me. That's right. It's hard to imagine people committing such vile acts of disrespect in my regal presence, but it's happened. Twice, which is two times too many.

One: Jack Neylon. The meanest, lowest of all Mafia lackeys, and yet he sees fit to throw a cell phone at me. What's more, he does it when I'm not looking at him, _and _the president of the United States of America is on the line. Clearly, that man has no proper business attitude. The phone could have fallen onto the floor and broken, and then who knows if we could have had another chance to speak with the president? More importantly, what if he'd misjudged his strength and thrown the phone straight at my head? As the mastermind of the Mafia, I can't afford to lose any brain cells. That fool Jack should have presented the phone to me on bended knee. Seriously.

Two: Near. Yeah. I come all the way from Los Angeles to New York to relieve him of my picture, and he can't be bothered to stand up, step out of his trippy train track, and hand it to me like a normal person. Would it kill him to walk a few feet? Apparently he thinks so. Instead, he has to show off his throwing skills. Save that for your bitty ninja stars, otaku. He could have even given it to one of his underlings to hand to me. But of course, it's Mello; how could he have resisted a new opportunity for target practice? I kind of feel sorry for the SPK; they probably have to go through this every day.

In conclusion (I was always so glad to reach that phrase when writing essays for homework), throwing things at Mello exemplifies irreverence, stupidity, and an invitation for Mello's wrath to descend. You have been warned.


	7. Holy Virgin

**Holy Virgin**

Characters: L, Light, Mello, Matt, Near

Rating: T for iffy religious themes (well, it's all in good fun)

A/N: Happy April Fool's! I've never considered the possibilities of an April Fool's Day prank on FFN (I only discovered this site six months ago), but anyways, no prank, just a normal update :)

This one kind of wrote itself, so don't expect luscious descriptions; I mean, you know what these guys look like. Warped religious concepts inside do not reflect my own beliefs; please take no offense. I do not own Death Note, Twilight, or Harry Potter.

XXX

A rap on the door.

L cocked his head at Light, who sighed, stood, and crossed the room to open the door, revealing…

"Hello," he said uncertainly to the strange assortment of children in the doorway. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Mello, Head Theoretician of Theological Obstetrics," said a spritely blond dressed in black.

"I'm Matt, Head of Improbable Technology and Miraculous Development," said a gangly redhead with a pair of swim goggles perched atop his hair (Light wondered if one of his improbable projects involved transforming himself into a zebrafish).

"I'm Near, Head of the Atheist Outreach Department," said a bleached-looking runt with the same dead eyes as L.

"We are **L**'s **O**wn **V**ery** E**xtraordinary **D**octors!" they all chorused together (well, Mello contributed most of the volume).

Light, rather than further torture his brain trying to figure out who would take a practical joke this far, turned to L for support. The crouching genius merely remarked, "It seems the OBGYN team is here."

"Wrong," Mello corrected as he brushed past Light into the room. Matt and Near followed him less enthusiastically to plop onto the desk in front of L, effectively blocking him from continuing his work, as the former immediately settled down with L's laptop, and the latter took to fabricating projectiles out of L's papers. The energetic blond took this opportunity to monopolize L's attention.

"We will begin this consultation by summarizing what facts we know for certain," Mello began importantly. "Firstly—"

"Ryuuzaki, would you like to explain what these children are to you, that they can just barge in and disturb the peace with such nonsense?" Light exclaimed.

L blinked his bush baby's eyes slowly. "They are my… godchildren. Perhaps Light-kun, being a socially well-endowed individual, cannot appreciate the fact that they are the closest a recluse like myself will ever get to having a family."

"Wrong again," Mello crowed triumphantly. "Now, if you would allow me to resume my initial remarks before I was so _graciously _interrupted. We are _not _an OBGYN team because the GYN part abbreviates gynecologist, a specialist in women's health, and you, L, are not a woman."

"We did consider that possibility, though," Near said. "As part of Atheist Outreach, it's my job to anticipate any scientific modi of reasoning and deflect them. But with Matt's help, I searched your records and found nothing indicating any, ah, physically feminine symptoms. Therefore, we can assume you are not a woman."

"Rightly assumed," L murmured. "Shall we hear, then, what my diagnosis actually is?"

Mello puffed himself up proudly; Light almost expected him to sprout peacock feathers from his golden crown.

"L," he declared, "you are pregnant with the child of Kira."

_Dear God,_ Light thought. Then… _dear me?_

"In the name of the Mello, the Matt, and the Near, amen," L intoned. "How did you know I was gaining a new family member?"

"Matt reported seeing you palpitate an almost imperceptible swelling in your lower abdominal region. You were in the kitchen gazing down at your belly with an expression of fondness," Near said drily, perfectly detached from the emotions he was describing.

"I thought I'd dodged all the extra cameras Matt installed," L said.

Matt shook his head gleefully, although Light supposed that might have been due to an interesting find on L's laptop.

"Well, how did you know I wasn't just thinking about the wonderful food I was going to put in my belly? That wasn't necessarily going to feed a baby?"

"Stop grasping at straws, L. You were talking to it," Matt declared smugly.

They were silent. Finally, "All right, I think we've established that L is pregnant," Mello said in a rush. "Now we need to move on to the reason. As I mentioned earlier, L is carrying Kira's child. Kira is Light Yagami."

"What?" Light exclaimed. Of course, he'd been expecting the accusations.

"Matt," Mello said by way of explanation.

"Hacked L's Kira case notes," Near clarified.

"Remotely," Matt boasted.

"Kira is Light Yagami," Mello repeated.

"There's no proof!" Light said, crossing his arms and fuming gracefully.

"There's no proof that you are Kira, just as there is no proof that God exists. However, if we believe the latter to be true, we cannot limit our capacities of belief and reject the truth of the former statement," Near deduced.

"L said you had symptoms of narcissistic personality disorder," Matt said. "You displayed a severe god complex."

"And that is what got us thinking," Mello said. "Perhaps Kira has managed to imitate God so closely that he succeeded in impregnating L."

"Objection," Light snapped. "We've never had intercourse. I've never even had… thoughts about L."

"Really, Light-kun? I feel so unwanted," L pouted.

"Ahem. If Kira assumes himself to be God, then it follows that he would never have any ungodly thoughts of human lust. Instead, he would operate on the principle of immaculate conception," Near said.

"As in, not dirty," Matt elucidated.

L chewed this quandary over, his thumb showing the outward effects. "But… isn't that rape?"

"L, I am not responsible for your unnatural pregnancy, and I certainly have not raped you!" Light exploded.

They were again silent.

"Well, that is all for our diagnosis and etiology consultation," Mello resumed professionally. "Let us proceed to the discussion of what to do for the next nine months."

"Assuming, of course, that this is a normal, God-given child and not some sparkly mutant running on androvampiric growth hormone," Matt said.

"Matt, stop reading Twilight."

"I haven't read it; I'm just mocking it. Someday I'll start a MMORPG where you get extra points for bashing bad literature."

"I believe we were on the topic of L's next nine months?" Near reminded his excitable elders.

"I have a question," L said. "What fee am I paying for this spontaneous, though not unwelcome consultation?"

Light was about to frown him down for being so stingy as the world's most valuable man. Then it occurred to him that these children probably did not have any concept of normal asking fees.

He was quite right and wrong.

"All we ask by way of payment is the right to become joint godfathers of your child," Mello pronounced.

They looked more like children than ever, puppy eyes wide, hearts on their sleeves. L mulled their request over and at last said, "I am not certain of the legalities of being underage godfathers to the child of the human male incarnations of God and justice. However, I will grant your wish no matter what the law says."

"Hooray!" the boys cheered. L smiled indulgently.

_That's right, don't even consult with me about our child's guardians,_ Light grumbled internally. Then, _wait! That makes it sound like I'm in some sort of domestic partnership with Ryuuzaki! Er…_

Two and a half hours later, after they had been lectured on everything from baby names (Matt: how about Lira? Bella named her kid after its grandmothers. Mello: we are not naming it after the Italian currency) to a proper nanny (Mello: don't breathe a word to Linda) to proper nutrition (Near: please be a role model and limit your sugar intake) to social stigma (Mello: anyone looks at you sideways, you ask them if they're part of the **H**omophobic **O**rganization of **E**nglish **S**hit-eaters), L and Light were finally left in peace.

"Are they always like that?" Light asked, plopping onto his side of the bed with a long sigh.

"Always," L replied, typing away at changing all the passwords since Matt had used his laptop. "They are the Cerberus of Wammy's House."

"What?"

"Cerberus was the three-headed dog that guarded the gates of Hades in Greek mythology," L explained. "He was recently reincarnated in _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. _No doubt Mello, Matt, and Near were thus inspired to nominate themselves as three heads on one clinical team."

"They're awfully clever, aren't they?" Light remarked unnecessarily.

"They are indeed. However, even if they weren't, they would still be **LOVED**," L said, gazing absently down at his stomach. "As is this child."

L must have felt Light's eyes boring into the back of his head, because he turned around and said, "As are you, Light-kun."

XXX

A/N: Please leave reviews, darlings! They make good food for more humor stories.


	8. Precipitation

**Precipitation**

Characters: Near, Rester, Gevanni, Mello

Rating: K+

A/N: Hehe, this idea was partly inspired by lolgreeness following Mello's rant on people throwing things at him. Hope you like =)

I don't own Death Note, most unfortunately.

XXX

"Near, we must leave quickly!" Rester nagged with his usual commanderish urgency.

Near, however, was not to be intimidated by the crush of feral Kira supporters twenty floors below. He merely continued rearranging his robots and droned something about the people being fools.

Rester again attempted to deflect Near's poorly timed philosophic tendencies and persuade him to evacuate. T_he man really is admirable, _Near thought, _but there is no need for such panic. _Aloud, he said, "Very well. Let us implement the first part of the plan."

Relief smoothed out the commander's worried wrinkles, though it couldn't bleach his subtly graying roots (the stress of being Near's surrogate father made him age much too fast). "Roger that." He turned to Gevanni, who would program the dispensers to start, but Near said, "Wait."

_ Just when I thought he would cooperate…_ Rester agonized.

"I think I am not mistaken in assuming you have the apparatus set up for the addition to the plan?" Near asked.

"Er…" Gevanni and Rester wore twin frowns of confusion.

"I… I did set it up, but I must confess I didn't think-"

"-I was being serious?" Near said. "Au contraire, Commander Rester, I cannot emphasize how vital this part of the plan is.

"All… all right then. Gevanni, you can deploy the machines now."

Two clicks and it rained green, but for one catch…

XXX

Mello leaned idly against a pillar in the abandoned foyer. Everyone had rushed out to seize the money that was falling from the windows of the SPK. He had to silently applaud Near, who had correctly presumed that money held a greater sway over humans than Kira did. _Even though that money should have been mine,_ Mello seethed. _I should have been the successor… now I can't even venture out ot stop those lowlife from pillaging my inheritance because my face might be seen._

"Hold on, what is this?" Demegawa's obnoxious voice broke through Mello's dark thoughts. "They're still raining money, but there's something else… mm, looks delicious!"

Mello looked out the window, and his blood pressure immediately skyrocketed.

The little sheep was throwing chocolate bars out the window.

And… the people were snatching them up as greedily as they had the money.

Mello curled up on an empty chair and indulged in a few private, soul-racking sobs.

XXX

A/N: Mello needs to get revenge on Near, don't you think? Any ideas?


	9. Moths

**Moths**

Characters: Halle, Light, Matt, Mello, Roger

Rating: K+

XXX

"Halle Lidner, I have a proposition to make."

"Who are you?" the woman howled into her headset as her car swerved drunkenly through the hurricane of Death's-head moths surrounding it.

Yes, that's right: moths. The ones with the little skull patterns.

"Halle Lidner, do not continue pursuing Miss Takada and her kidnapper. You are endangering yourself by driving in these conditions. Please pull over to the side of the road."

If Halle had been less distracted, she would have noticed that the voice was distorted, but the syntax was familiar. However, as it was, she could only scream derangedly, "You're crazy! They'll cover every inch of my car if I stop!"

"Your loyalty to Miss Takada is admirable," the voice droned. "But I can preserve your sanity. I can eliminate the moths."

Halle almost crashed into a signpost. "Who are you to say that? How can you have the power?"

"Well, you see…" and Halle knew what the next words would be, "… I am Kira."

-earlier-

Matt fired the gun in Takada's direction, and smoke enveloped the vicinity. With any luck, he would make it out alive…

… or not. As a mix of smoke and blood drifted from his mouth one last time, he thought he heard a distant buzz.

Meanwhile, Mello had made away with Takada due to Halle's incapacitation, which was due to the arrival of copious amounts of moths. The smoke gun had released several liters of airborne moth pheromones, resulting in millions of moths swarming the streets of Tokyo. Pedestrians fled every which way while cars slowed to a stop with the road completely obscured.

Mello's last thoughts: Give Halle the finger for me, my winged friends.

-present-

Light sat calmly in the back of the car as the task force members chauffeured him to the burning church. On his phone screen was the Wikipedia page for _Acherontia styx_. He smirked quietly. Four turns of his watch, click, and scribble.

Forty seconds later, it rained dead moths.

Halle had arrived at the scene already but was huddled, sobbing, in her car; she was only too glad to be taken into custody for questioning, away from the dreaded moths.

Six thousand miles away, Roger wept silent tears. "I should never have told Mello about the pheromones," he choked out.

XXX

A/N: Lidner dislikes moths, so I chose to interpret that as moth-phobia. Plus, Roger likes insects, so this madness was written on a plane, eight thousand feet in the air.

Search the Death's-head moth on Wikipedia. It is very cool.

And… I don't own Death Note.

Reviews are heavenly!


	10. Burning

**Burning**

Characters: Ryuk, Light

Rating: K+

XXX

Ryuk gaped at Light, drooling slightly as the boy explained his contraption that involved deconstructing pens and incorporating woodshop lessons. And no, Ryuk was not drooling over Light's attractiveness.

"Yanno, Light, if you insist on playing with fire, you could burn yourself badly making even one little mistake."

"I've been playing with fire from the start."

_Too bad your dad isn't a firefighter, _Ryuk mused.

XXX

Light came home the next day to his beloved note. He pulled the drawer open, took out his fake diary, and scribbled some unconvincingly uninteresting events into the day's entry.

_Maybe I should think up more scandalous events, _he thought. _Even Sayu could tell how fake this is._

He then took apart his pen and idly spun the cartridge between his fingers. Slotting it through the tiny hole in the underside of the drawer, he slowly lifted the panel of wood inside so that the ink cartridge insulated the electric current. The note lay beneath, and he reached for his holy scripture, his sacred-

"-Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" came a scream from downstairs.

Light was so startled that he knocked the all-saving pen cartridge out of position. In the milliseconds before the clatter of plastic on the ground and the eruption of flames…

_How about this: 'Met Shiho for lunch today. We cut class. Ate at the nice new sushi bar down the street from the station. Told her she's the first one I've had real feelings for. Kissed. Her hair is really greasy.'_

… _greasy hair? Come on, God of the New World, you can get the creative juices flowing better than that…_

XXX

Light awoke in a painfully stereotypical hospital room, white walls, white ceiling, white sheets, white lights, ugh.

Then something that was most definitely black entered his field of vision.

"I must be hallucinating," Light said aloud. "I may have partial amnesia, since I don't remember hitting my head. But it is possible that my occipital receptors have suffered some disconnect, or my dopamine levels may have increased; why though, I can't imagine. But there's no other explanation for why my brain is registering the sight of a giant monster here in this room."

The monster of Light's imagining looked rather amused, though Light couldn't be sure if he was interpreting its alien facial structure correctly.

"Light, you're not hallucinating," it said in a gravelly voice.

_Well, of course, a hallucination would say that to me._

"But I guess I know why you don't recognize me," it continued, not sounding remotely regretful. "The Death Note was burned, so it doesn't exist anymore. Therefore you don't own it anymore, therefore you lost all your memories of it and me."

"Is that so?" Light tried, faintly curious as to what rich tales his imagination could supply. He'd never excelled in creative writing at school, but perhaps his muse had burgeoned while he was unconscious.

"That's right," the monster snickered, still more heartened by Light's discomfiture. "You can still see me, though, because of that piece of Death Note in your watch."

"My watch?" Light had just noticed it was still on his wrist and hadn't been destroyed in the blaze. "I do seem to remember putting some paper inside, but that was probably just for emergency note-taking situations."

"Actually, Light, it's for emergency murdering purposes."

Light stared tiredly at the creature. "My mind is a strange place indeed. Rather macabre, I'll say. I think I should see a psychologist when I get out of here… but I'll take a look at the paper anyways."

His fingers moved of their own accord to click the knob on his watch a deathly four times, revealing a blank piece of lined paper tucked inside.

"You're saying that this paper is for killing?" he asked of the room at large, for the monster had just floated through the wall and disappeared.

"Hm. Guess I _was _just hallucinating. Honestly, what a pain that I'm stuck here at all. All because Sayu startled me when she screamed about Hideki Ryuuga starring in another movie or something…"

"… I really should make a note of that…" Light somehow located a pen next to his bed and scribbled away on the tiny square of paper:

_Note to self: tell Sayu to stop shrieking so much about Hideki Ryuuga._

XXX

A/N: Don't you love twist endings? Anyways, chronologically this is incorrect, because Light hadn't invented the watch thing at this time yet, but oh well.


	11. Kira Diagnosis 101

**Kira Diagnosis 101**

Characters: Ukita, unnamed caller, unnamed doctor

Rating: K+

A/N: Pre-med students sit up and take note, this is an important lecture! I do not own Death Note or any artists whose lyrics I may have used… hehe.

XXX

Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring.

Ukita Hirokazu had never liked bananas, as such he did not have one at hand with which to mime answering the phone. Instead, he picked up the real phone and said, "Kira Investigation Headquarters, what do you want?"

"Um, I think I might be Kira!" the caller whimpered in anguish.

"Is that so? Why do you think that?" Ukita asked uninterestedly.

"Um, well, I watch the news regularly, and there have been times when I've seen criminals and wished they were dead, and later they did die!"

_You and everyone else, _Ukita thought. "Did you wish for the twelve FBI agents to die?"

"Well, no but –"

"Then you can't be Kira," Ukita diagnosed. He ended the call, tossing the phone back into its cradle.

"_I'm such a badass doctor, _he smirked. _Too bad no one would pay to produce a TV show based on my practice. Like in that American doctor, what's his name… House? Just like him. Ukita Hirokazu, M.D. Specializing in Kira diagnosis. _

Twenty-five identical calls later, Ukita was feeling less professional and more ready to throw the phone at the wall. But then L might ask a very special doctor to have a look at him. A nice young man in a clean white coat (didn't it take years to earn a psychiatry degree? How could they still be young?), yes, and then Ukita might have to leave his job. No, office violence would not fly at all, not with the world's greatest and creepiest detective staring over his shoulder.

He compromised by pulling out the landlines of all the phones in the room, as well as turning off his cell phone and computer. Oh blessed solace.

XXX

Six years later, Ukita's spirit observed the going-ons of the Kira investigation in Los Angeles. Chief Yagami was dying, and even as his eyesight faded, he was deluded into thinking his son was not Kira. Ukita had learned a lot about Kira since his own death, of eyes and lifespans and whatnot, and he knew for certain that Light was Kira. But he was just metaphysical spirit; he couldn't speak to anyone. As if anyone would believe Ukita, a mediocre police detective, over the brilliant, flawless Light Yagami. Still, as Light whipped out the Death Note and started waving it frantically around, screaming at his father to write Mello's name, Ukita glanced at the darker corners of the room. There in the shadows stood a doctor in a clean white coat (his niceness and youth were debatable).

_Why aren't you doing anything? _Ukita raged. _The infamous Kira is right there parading his killing notebook in front of your eyes, and all you do is watch the heart monitor and twiddle your thumbs and toes?_

For that is actually what the doctor did amid the scene of blatant overacting performed by the illustrious Light. Even as the chief's vitals flatlined, he just stood by and expressed his condolence.

_Obviously, _Ukita seethed, _he hasn't gone to Kira medical school, aka the Kira Investigation HQ office, so he wouldn't know shit about diagnosing a Kira even if it waltzed right up and asked for his driver's license._

_ Now I understand how doctors feel about their goddamn incompetent interns._

XXX

A/N: Didn't anyone on the task force notice the doctor in Soichiro's hospital room? Or did he step out briefly to give the group some privacy? Either way, he hardly could have missed Light's maniacal screams of "Write it, Dad! Quick!" Oh, plot holes, how I do love thee.


	12. The Noblest (Nobel-est?) Element

**The Noblest (Nobel-est?) Element **

**Characters:** Matt, Mello

**Rating:** K+

**A/N:** Chemistry fun time! I was going to include this in my Matt/Mello fic, but it seemed too trivial…hopefully it'll bring you some laughs…or at least a halfhearted grin, maybe?

XXX

"Mello, guess what I realized today! Wammy's House has loads of chemistry!"

_What on earth is he talking about_, I wonder as I almost choke on my coffee.

"I hardly think so. Notice how L and Near epitomize the common phrase 'forever alone.'"

"No, Mello, I don't mean that kind of chemistry," Matt whines. "I mean, chemistry with elements and molecules."

_The chemistry I'm talking about also has to do with molecules,_ I think distractedly. "You're right," I concede. "Wammy's does offer a lot of chemistry classes, though I can't say the subject really piques my interest."

"_No, _Mello," and at this point he's pulling his hair out, "I mean, our names have chemistry. Like, the letters in our names are chemical symbols."

What.

"Look," he displays a periodic table on his laptop. "You know, like, N is for Near but also for nitrogen, which is also the most inert diatomic gas. Definitely like Near. And B is for Beyond, but also boron. Which apparently is also a really boring element—not accurate for Beyond. Near's chemistry extends to his agents as well: H for Halle and hydrogen, Ge for Gevanni and germanium, and Re for rhenium and Rester. Oh gosh, I nearly forgot! W for Watari and tungsten! Like in light bulbs. He was a great inventor. And Ru for Roger Ruvie and ruthenium, although I don't know what in hell that element is."

He gives me no time to reflect as he joyfully continues, "You know what else? If L had been interested in chemistry, he could have left this message in his will, in the form of a chemical reaction: 'Yttrium plus silver plus americium iodide + light energy - potassium iodide + radium.'"

I stare at him. At this point, it's probably better to let him get this chemistry phase out of his system.

He looks disappointed. "Do you get it? It says 'Yagami Light is Kira'!"

_So it does,_ I think, mentally checking all the chemical symbols. The equation is rather unbalanced, but lexicologically, it's sound. I decide to indulge Matt a little further.

"That's true, Matt. If only L had thought of that, Yagami would have been found out in no time."

He grins at my playing along.

"But may I ask why you haven't come up with a formula for L, you, and me? I notice that there are no elements that are just L or M."

He blanches. Yes, Matt, fear my wrath.

"Um…uh, well, for L, there's lithium, or lanthanum, or lawrencium, or lutetium, uh…"

Another stern glare has him casting about for an M. "Uh…magnesium, molybdenum, mendelevium manganese…"

"_Manganese_?"

He knows he's made a mistake when he suggests an element with chemical symbol MN. The franticness of his voice now is almost enough to appease me.

"Shit, I take that back. There's an organic group called methyl, abbreviated Me…you can have that. Oh, no, I'll discover a new element and name it Mellonium for you, how about that—"

"Matt," I cut across him smoothly, "here's what we'll do. We'll discover and/or invent an atom whose atomic weight is 2000, and we'll call it Mattmellium, and it'll have its own little place in the center of the periodic table and not bond with anyone else. How's that sound?"

"Brilliant."

XXX

**A/N:** Heh. Heh. If you're interested, this is the equation mentioned: Y + Ag + AmI + LIGHT energy (a catalyst in some reactions) = KI + Ra

Obviously this reaction would never happen in a million years, but in the DNverse, it is instantaneous.


End file.
